


Battle Scarred

by IsisKitsune



Series: The Devil's in the details [62]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, College, College Student Peter Parker, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Injury, Injury Recovery, Magic, Major Original Character(s), Pain, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is Matt Murdock's Biological Child, Post-Battle, Price of Magic, References to Depression, Scars, Technopathy, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:26:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24025060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsisKitsune/pseuds/IsisKitsune
Summary: Peter was sprawled on his bed, just... letting his mind rest. It took almost a full minute before he realized he was hearing someone knock, “Yeah, sorry, one second,” fuck his hands still hurt so much... He opened the door, the pressure painful before he blinked at Preston looking worried, “Yeah?”“I've been trying to get a hold of you all day... You missed the meet-” he stopped in mid though when he caught Peter trying to shift to hide his hands, “What happened?”
Relationships: Peter Parker & Original Character(s)
Series: The Devil's in the details [62]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1704817
Comments: 2
Kudos: 58





	Battle Scarred

Peter was sprawled on his bed, just... letting his mind rest. It took almost a full minute before he realized he was hearing someone knock, “Yeah, sorry, one second,” fuck his hands still hurt so much... He opened the door, the pressure painful before he blinked at Preston looking worried, “Yeah?”

“I've been trying to get a hold of you all day... You missed the meet-” he stopped in mid though when he caught Peter trying to shift to hide his hands, “What happened?”

“I uh,” he kicked the door shut as he flopped onto his bed and held out his hands. His palms were at least doing better, prioritized due to extensive use, while the back was still cover in deep red metal. His suit essentially holding his hands together while it tried to heal the damage. “Burned myself pretty bad. And, um, my first response is-”

“The Ironman suit?”

He shrugged, “Something like that. I had it on when it happened. I just, kinda lost control of a spell and it just, burned everything attached to it. Least my arms weren't as bad, they're just scarred up pretty good,” he pulled his sleeves up and regretted it when Preston looked pale, “It'll be alright, it's just... needs time. It's actually looking a lot better. Was showing muscle.”

“Peter, these are like... stay your ass in the fucking burn ward level scars... What the hell happened?”

He couldn't help the laugh as he fell back, “Life.”

“Shit, if that's your arms, and they're that bad, what's the back of your hands look like?”

Peter winced, feeling nauseated at remembering the feeling of finally forcing his suit to retract, the wrong feeling of it spreading around him as he fought against it covering him while trying not to be sick at the view. “Everything is still sound, but it's gonna take some time to build up the muscle again,” if it properly healed... Closing his hands were no fun, pressure on his palms even less fun, the feeling of, shifting beneath the metal... But it was at least healing, even if opening his hands felt like breaking bones it was still healing. “Don't,” he winced away, feeling the suit creep down his arm when Preston tried to touch his hand. “Just don't. It's healing.”

“I'm getting-”

“What the hell is she going to do? I've had every doctor I know checking up on me. Hell Bruce should be whining at any minute wanting an update and check up. But it fucking hurts to remove the metal... I can't yet, it's not, done. And I'm so sick of just, eating and sleeping and, it all just hurts and nothing works for the pain because my metabolism burns through that shit quicker than anything we've found. Hell, even my anxiety meds work but painkillers, nah that shit doesn't get to work. I never get a fucking break. Never a single fucking break.” Peter whined, nearly in tears when he got alerted of a call, “See? Pepper's calling about the fucking... Not now.”

“We've had this scheduled for nearly a month Peter.”

“Yeah well, shit happens, didn't FRIDAY tell you to cancel everything until I clear it?”

“She wouldn't give me a reason...”

Right, the general public had no fucking clue. The black hole they'd discovered had apparently been short lived, though disastrous to the system it cropped up in, but still burned out nearly as quickly as it'd started. Galactus disappearing just as sudden as he'd appeared, giving them their, no doubt, short lived peace. “Shadow op, I'm out of the game on bed rest and recovery. Verify it with Bruce if you don't believe me.”

“What?”

Peter disconnected the call before he could risk a rant, sighing and hissing and flinching at the touch to his finger. “I said don't fucking touch it!”

“Sorry, you were, hazy eyed, I shook you but you didn't respond. You sure you don't wanna go back to your doctor?”

“There's nothing he can do, none of it works. I just, gotta heal.” Pete grumbled, “And I'm tanking my GPA because I can't even deal with people right now and questions and shit...”

“Doctor's note,” Preston finally nodded, “Isn't that one of the exceptions? Get your doctor to write one up for the school, get your courses shifted to online or at least printed assignments only, which they should already take them if you ask me. Plus you got like the whole wide web in your head right? You'd get through anything and everything they throw at you.”

“Press, it's not the same. I mean, could I answer any known question, yeah, but it's not the same as knowing it. Takes more than a glance to remember something. It's cheating if I do it that way.”

Preston chuckled, “You are way too good for your own good Murdock.”

Peter shrugged, “I get it from my dad, I think.” He smirked, “Maybe. He'd say no but I know it's at least a maybe.” He grumbled, “Hey, Bruce, can I get like, a note or something? My hands are killing me still, arms are looking loads better but my hands are still fucked up pretty good and hurts to do a lot of stuff with them.”

“How bad are they?”

“Not looking, they just... ache and pressure on them hurts and forget bumping them on anything. Woke up nearly screaming when I rolled over this morning.”

“I have a few alternative medications-”

“Bruce, they don't fucking work. They probably won't ever fucking work on this. I channeled a lot of fucking magic, this is the price of that. It's why I could still move my hands after...” essentially stripping away every ounce of flesh on them... “Magic has a price, I'm paying it. I just, need some downtime from class so I can hopefully keep my GPA and recover from this and still have a chance in hell of moving up next year instead of retaking things.”

“I keep forgetting you've only just gotten started in college.”

Peter nodded, “Yeah, not even through with year 1... God, poster child for the American edition of Harry Potter...”

Preston cracked up, “So far... Yeah, from what I've seen, good comparison.”

“Oh shut up, Press,” Peter grumbled as he winced as he tried to test his hands by opening them, “I'm hungry, again, high metabolism sucks.”

“Come on, let's go get something, my treat.”

“Oh do not wish that evil on your bank account, I'll pay my own way, thanks,” Peter grumbled as he disconnected the call with Bruce. “But yeah, food sounds awesome right now.” He smiled when Preston had the door already open then snorted at the question of, “Chinese?”


End file.
